


Friendships Like Ours

by der_tanzer



Series: Protective Custody [5]
Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl like Jody can make almost any man rethink his options.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendships Like Ours

**Author's Note:**

> Relates to Something Fishy, so extreme spoilers there. Also spoilers for The Cowboys (starring John Wayne).  
> 

Murray had been hanging around the sea-quarium for a couple of weeks before he finally made up his mind to talk to Quinlan about it. He had to be sure that Jody was the one, that she was worth giving up what he had now, and probably ending what was certainly the strangest friendship of his life. For the last month and a half, he'd been going over to Ted's house once or twice a week just to have sex. There was usually beer, sometimes supper, and about half the time he stayed the night. But that was all just icing. The sex was the important part, and Ted was good at it. Murray didn't want to lose him and, although it seemed like a remote possibility, he didn't want to hurt him. Ted had never given any indication that Murray's defection _could_ hurt, but still he wavered. There must be some emotional attachment in there somewhere. They had a deal that neither would sleep with anyone else and Murray thought that must imply some measure of caring—the possibility of jealousy, at least. Or maybe he was just keeping it as uncomplicated as possible.

Whatever it was, Murray was pretty sure it had to end now. It had gotten to the point where whichever one he was with, he felt like he was cheating on the other, despite the fact that he and Jody hadn't actually had a real date yet. That _would_ be cheating, and as morally ambiguous as the rest of the situation seemed to be, he wasn't prepared to go that far.

"Something bothering you?" Quinlan asked as Murray fiddled with his beer bottle.

"Yeah, a little. I—that is, we—we need to talk about something."

"This isn't gonna be some big emotional scene, is it?"

"No. At least, I hope not. I know you wanted our _thing_ here to be casual, and it is, and I've enjoyed it. But I—I want something more, you know? I want—I want love and commitment and a future."

Quinlan smiled and Murray took heart.

"Sure, I understand," he nodded. "You want a commitment."

"That's right. See, I met this girl a couple of weeks ago, a dolphin trainer at Ocean Park, and she's so great. I—I think she really likes me and I want to ask her out, but I thought I should tell you first. I know you said it was no big deal and everything, but I didn't want to be sneaking around behind your back. And, you know, I don't think she'd understand."

"No, she wouldn't," Quinlan said thinly, his smile frozen in place. "Girls never understand guy stuff."

"That's what I thought. Anyway, I'm taking Nick and Cody to her show tomorrow, and if they like her all right, I'm going to ask her out. So this is probably the last night we can—you know—do this."

"Yeah, well, don't expect a big emotional goodbye," he said, and Murray didn't notice how the frozen smile didn't reach his eyes.

"I don't. I didn't think you'd care, really. I mean, you never really liked me or anything. I was just convenient, right?"

"Yeah, right. We had a good run, and I appreciate you telling me up front."

"So—so that's it? You're not mad or anything? I mean, you said you liked me and everything, and you know I like you, but this—this girl…"

"I know. You got a shot at a good thing and you gotta take it. I can't say I wouldn't do the same." He wouldn't, but it was still true. He couldn't say it. "So does that mean you ain't staying?"

"Well, I—I thought one more night wouldn't hurt. You know, guy stuff doesn't really count, right?"

"That's right," Quinlan said, and this time his smile was more real. "But this girl, she's really special, huh? You think she's the one?"

"I—hope so. At least, I think it's worth finding out. I mean, it's not like you're in love with me, right, Ted? If you were, if we had a future, it would be different, right? But you never wanted that."

"Neither did you," he said, managing not to sound defensive or accusatory. But it wasn't easy.

Murray shrugged and took a drink from his bottle. "It doesn't matter how I feel. You set the rules; I'm just going along."

That was true and Quinlan didn't try to argue. He'd dug this grave and now he was going to be buried in it. But there was still tonight.

"Gotta have rules. But the girl, that all starts tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah. And it'll be a while before it goes anywhere, anyway. You know, I—I can't make a move on her right away. She's not that kind of girl."

"You geek-boys sure are practical."

"It's like the ancient Greeks. The men all slept with each other because they couldn't touch the women before marriage. It's very interesting, really."

"Not to me. Finish your beer and let's go to bed."

Murray laughed, his eyes shining behind his glasses, and Quinlan's heart leapt painfully into his throat. God, he didn't want to let the kid go. _Stupid_. He was so fucking _stupid_. How could he have thought he could sleep with Murray, kiss him and fuck him and wake up beside him, and then just let him walk out the door? But he wasn't offering anything in return, and nothing worth having in this world was free. As they walked into the bedroom, Quinlan thought about that and wished he'd remembered it sooner.

***

"I don't understand," Nick said as he and Cody were getting dressed. Jody had been kidnapped, Murray was broken-hearted, and somehow Nick was taking the fall. She'd come on to him and he'd tried to turn her down, not just because he wasn't interested, but because Murray was so crazy about her, and yet it was still all his fault.

"He's just hurt," Cody said. "He's worried about her, and probably mad at himself for breaking it off with Ted before he knew if she'd want to go out with him."

"That's the part I really don't get, man. He knows I don't want him with Quinlan. I'd give up my own girlfriend, if I had one, just to break them up. How can he think I'd screw him over like this on purpose?"

"He can't be thinking that. Murray's way too smart, and besides, he knows you love him. He knows you want him to be happy; you're his best friend. But he _is_ hurting, Nick. Maybe bad enough that he isn't thinking at all."

"Well, he'd better be thinking or we won't get her back."

***

When they rejoined Murray to start working the case in earnest, he was thinking as hard as ever. But he wasn't speaking to Nick and the strain in the air was palpable.

It took getting kidnapped themselves to force the truth out of Nick, that he hadn't encouraged Jody and she had thrown herself at him anyway, and Murray was nearly dying with shame by the time he realized they were probably _really_ going to die. He'd dropped out of a good, if slightly unorthodox, relationship to pursue a woman who didn't care for him, and nearly lost his best friend in the process.

When they reached the dolphin pool and Jody raced to Nick, completely ignoring him and Cody, Murray saw what he hadn't wanted to before. She threw her arms around Nick and he stiffened, leaning away from her with an expression of distaste. Her eyes flicked to Murray's, regretful that he'd seen her foolish display but not that she'd done it, and he was unable to disguise the hurt he felt, even after everything that had happened. Nick had told her. Murray believed that now. Nick had told her there was no chance, that Murray liked her and that was the most important thing, and still she'd chased after him, blackmailing him into that date and clinging to him even now, knowing the sight was torture to Murray.

That was really the worst part. He could have lived with the rest, but finding out that Jody was no friend at all—that was beyond heartbreaking. It was humiliating, and he had trouble even thinking about the apologies he needed to make.

When Quinlan came to take the smugglers away, he didn't once look Murray in the eyes. That was going to be a _huge_ apology, but it would have to wait.

The three of them went home together and Nick made a cold supper so they could go to bed early. No one had gotten much sleep last night and it had been a hard day. Murray sat on one side of the galley table, his friends across from him, and picked listlessly at his food.

"You okay, Boz?" Cody asked gently.

"I'm a terrible person. Nick, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was even thinking, accusing you of wanting to steal Jody. I know you wouldn't do that to me, even if you did want her, which is ridiculous in and of itself. And, Cody, I don't know how you put up with that. Me accusing the man you love of wanting my girlfriend—you should hate me."

"No one hates you, buddy. It's been a confusing couple of days for you. I think you knew all along, and it was just easier to blame Nick than—well…"

"To admit that she didn't want me? Yeah, I know. That's why I'm so sorry, Nick. It's not so much that I believed it, it's that I _wanted_ to believe it. It was cowardly and stupid and I'm sorry. Nick, I'm so sorry."

"Murray, don't," Nick said firmly. "I really don't want to hear it."

"But—"

"No, man. I _don't_ want to hear it. I don't want to listen to you apologize when you're the one who got hurt."

"But I brought it on myself."

"Then you're suffering enough. Murray, buddy, forget about me, okay? Think about what you're gonna say when you see Jody tomorrow. Maybe there's still a chance there. If she's half as smart as I think she is, she'll see what a great guy you are." But in the back of his mind were Jody's words in the restaurant, rejecting the very idea of Murray with a laugh and saying that _Nick_ was special, that _he_ was _worth_ having a relationship with. As if Murray wasn't. And that was probably exactly what she thought.

Cody hadn't been there for that, but he suspected this was still the wrong track. Jody had made herself pretty clear already. He doubted that even he would have a shot with her, as hung up as she was on Nick, and Murray's chances were slimmer still. Suddenly Cody was trying to remember if he'd ever heard the girl use Murray's first name. He didn't think he had. In her own way, she was as bad as Quinlan.

"Somehow I doubt that," Murray said quietly. "I think I'm going to go to bed. Goodnight, guys." He got up and put his plate in the sink. Cody rose and caught his arm before he could get away.

"You're staying home tonight, right, buddy?"

"Cody—"

"I'm serious, Murray. I'll sleep outside your door if I have to."

"I'm not going anywhere," he sighed in defeat. "How much rejection do you think I can stand in one day?"

Cody exhaled sharply, as if he'd been hit, and hugged Murray hard without speaking. After a few seconds, Nick got up and wrapped his arms around them both.

Nick and Cody stayed in their cabin, but neither slept very well. Every sound disturbed them, and throughout the night, they took turns going to the other end of the boat to listen through the door to the sounds of Murray's restless sleep.

***

They met Jody on the beach before her show the next afternoon and Murray went into the conversation without much hope. He just had to hear her explanation, even though it couldn't possibly make him feel any better. And it didn't. For twenty minutes, he walked across the beach, quietly enduring while she called him sweet and "a good friend" (as if she even knew what that meant), and extolled Nick's virtues and multitudinous attractions. A hundred times in those twenty minutes he had to bite his tongue to keep from telling her that Nick was gay and deeply in love. That he himself had given up a man worth a dozen of her just to experience this uniquely awful humiliation. His tongue was bleeding by the time she kissed him, surprising him with her nerve and the casual cruelty with which she still treated him. If he wasn't so thoroughly sick of her by now, that kiss might have reignited his hopes, and for a second he genuinely hated her. Pretty girls always did that, toying with hearts and dropping kisses and caresses as if bestowing great gifts. He couldn't believe he'd risked so much for a cheap flirt like her, or that Nick had forgiven him so easily. But Nick had been dealing with pretty, flirty girls since junior high. He must know all about how they messed with a man's head and made him turn on his friends. Murray wondered if Quinlan did, too.

He left Jody there on the beach and walked over to where his friends waited, looking sympathetic. Yes, they understood. Still, Murray tried to apologize again, and Nick still refused to hear it. This time he told Murray that friends, real friends like them, didn't have to apologize for these kinds of things. Of course they had before, and would again, but that didn't matter today. Today they laughed it off with a joke about picking up women, and Nick and Cody went home.

Murray had one last piece of business to take care of.

Cody offered him the Jimmy, but Murray preferred to walk. He went to the Quik-Shop first and got a six-pack of Henry Weinhard's, Ted's favorite for some obscure reason, and then walked over to his house in the Pine Street cul de sac. If Ted wasn't home, he would leave the bottles on the porch and go back to the pier. He didn't know if he would ever try the park again, but he knew he wouldn't go there before he apologized to Ted.

"Hey, Bozinsky," he said, sounding friendly enough as he opened the door. But Murray knew him well enough now to see how his eyes were guarded.

"Hi, Lieutenant. Can—can I come in?"

"Well, since you brought beer," he shrugged, stepping aside to let him through. Murray handed over the bottles and followed him to the sofa, where Quinlan had been watching TV. It was his day off and he'd been enjoying the total wasting of it. All that had been missing was the beer. He set the six-pack on the floor by his feet and turned down the TV, which was showing _The Cowboys_, a movie not in need of much volume.

"I wasn't expecting to see you," he said, prying a bottle cap off with his pocket knife and handing the bottle over to Murray. "Didn't work out with the girl?"

"No, it didn't. But I like to think I'd have the good manners to apologize for the way I treated you, even it had."

"You didn't do anything to me, Bozinsky. There's nothing to apologize for."

"Yes, there is. I did exactly what I accused you of doing after the trial—I walked out on you because I thought someone better had come along. Even if you don't care about me, even if we weren't having a real _relationship_, I can't stand being such a hypocrite."

"I never said I didn't care about you, kid. The fact is, I let you go _because_ I care. You don't want this. You don't want _me_. You're young—you want a wife and kids and all that good shit, and I ain't gonna hold you back. You saw a shot at the life you wanted and you had to take it. But anytime you want to come over here, if you're between girls or whatever, the door's open."

"Does that go both ways? Will you still be looking for that permanent relationship, too?"

"Sure, why not?" he lied, and then reverted to the truth. "But I don't need it like you do. If I was twenty years younger, I'd be out on the town every night. But I already did that. All I need now is a little company once in a while, and you're as good as anyone else."

"You really want me back?" he asked, ignoring the mild insult.

"Hell, Bozinsky, you were hardly gone. I had algebra tests in high school that lasted longer."

Murray drank his beer and thought that over. After a while, he gestured to the TV with the bottle and asked, "Is that Bruce Dern?"

"Yeah. He's always the bad guy in these things."

"But John Wayne always wins, right?"

"Not always. In fact, you might not want to watch this."

"Why not?" he asked, and just then Bruce Dern drew his gun. "Oh. Oh, this is awful. Ted—"

Quinlan picked up the remote and switched over to TBS, where Gomez Addams was checking the price of Consolidated Lint on his stock ticker.

"Thank you. That's the saddest thing I've ever seen."

"Gets sadder," he shrugged. "The kids bury him and finish the cattle drive. Then they go back to put up a headstone and can't find the grave. Supposed to be a statement of some kind but I never quite figured it out."

"That's awful. John Wayne should never die."

"Don't worry, kid. He won't."

Murray laughed and tipped his bottle to his friend. Then he took a drink and asked another question.

"You really weren't upset that I wanted to go out with Jody?"

"No. I told you from the beginning, you don't owe me anything. I'm sure it'll happen again, too. You're gonna find the right girl, Murray. Get married, have kids, buy a fucking station wagon—the whole nine yards. Just be sure you don't tell her about any of this when you do. Girls don't want husbands who've been with men."

"Yeah? Why is that so much worse than being with other girls?"

"Are you kidding? Even if she doesn't think you're a freak, and she will, girls can't handle the competition. They know how to keep you away from other girls, but the idea of you fucking someone you can also go bowling and watch John Wayne movies with really messes with their heads."

"Oh. Yes, I guess I can see how it would. Is—is that why you never married?"

"I was married. Back in the sixties, for a couple years. Thing is, I'm gay, Murray. Chasing girls at barbecues, going to strip joints, getting married—it's all a cover. Guy doesn't do that shit, people start to talk. Look at your buddies. They do it, too. Hell, Ryder took a girl away from me at a party once. Then he dropped her on the way out the door and went home with Cody."

"And what did you do?"

"I went home with a waiter from out of town."

"You must trust me a lot," Murray said thoughtfully.

"You got as much to lose by talking as I do." Quinlan dropped the empty bottle back into the carrier and picked up another one.

"I guess. I won't say anything, of course. It just seems like you don't trust people that much."

"Not a lot of people trust me as much as you do. Goes both ways, kid."

Murray remembered how scared he'd been the first time Ted entered his body—of the pain, of the intimacy, of the fact that he could be talked about after, all his secrets exposed—and nodded. There was a lot of trust here.

"So you're not going to let me say I'm sorry?"

"I don't need you to be."

"Well, I am, and I need to say it to someone."

"Fine, apology accepted." _The Addams Family_ ended and _Hazel_ came on. Quinlan turned off the TV with a mumbled, "I hate that bitch", and put down the remote. "You drunk enough to go to bed?"

"I was ready when I got here," Murray smiled. "I just needed to make you accept my apology first."

"This is why I like men better than women. Chicks always make _me_ say I'm sorry before they put out."

"I don't want anything from you but this, Lieutenant. And if I have any more to drink, I won't be any good."

"You'll be fine." He got up and took Murray's hand, pulling him off the couch and leading him to the tidy little bedroom.

"Ted, would it be too—girly—if I asked about that?" he said shyly, unbuttoning his shirt.

"About what?"

"You know. Am I—good?"

"I don't know, kid. I never had a girl ask me that," Ted grinned and Murray blushed.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know. And you don't have anything to worry about." He couldn't come right out and _say_ that Murray was good for fear of praising him too much and showing his true feelings. Instead, he cupped Murray's cheek in his palm and kissed him, long and slow. Murray's hands fell away from his shirt buttons and somehow landed on Quinlan's shoulders. Ted began to work the buttons free as the kiss deepened and they somehow managed to undress each other without separating.

Quinlan eased him down on the bed and stretched out beside him, running his hand lightly over Murray's body, feeling him begin to flush and sweat. Murray trembled, wrapping long fingers around the back of his neck and holding him close as the kiss went on. Quinlan pinched his nipple, made him gasp, then pulled back.

"You taste like blood, kid," he said sternly. "Somebody hit you in the mouth or something?"

"No. No, I was just—I was biting my tongue and the insides of my cheeks while that girl was blowing me off. I guess I got a little carried away."

"They'll do it to you every time," he said and resumed the kiss, sucking Murray's tongue gently, tasting his blood and soothing his pain. Gradually, he shifted and began biting his way down Murray's throat, feeling his pulse race faster as he raised dark bruises. He worked his way slowly over prominent collarbones, licking into the hollows the way Murray liked and thrilling to his shivering moans. By the time he got down to his nipples, the skinny man was writhing, nails digging into Quinlan's shoulders.

"You like that?" he whispered, breath blowing cool across damp skin. Murray flinched, arching up against him as he tried to organize his brain to speak.

"Y—yes, please," he stammered. "Oh, please."

Quinlan responded by tickling the hollow of his hip, sending chills throughout his body. Murray bucked helplessly and heard him laugh. Then that tickling hand was wrapped around his cock and he fell apart completely.

"Please, what?" Quinlan teased. "You want me to suck you? Or do you want to get fucked?"

"I—oh, god, I want—whatever you want. Anything. I'm sorry, Ted. Anything you want."

"Sorry for what?" he asked, trailing wet kisses down Murray's belly.

"Everything. I'm so sorry."

Quinlan didn't like the direction that was taking, implying a deeper relationship, a deeper _debt_, than he wanted to acknowledge, and he took Murray's shaft in his mouth, figuring that would either change the subject or shut him up entirely. Murray cried out, grabbing Quinlan's head and thrusting hard. He was still talking, but it was an incomprehensible babble now. The only words Ted could make out where _please_ and _more_, and he was happy to oblige. He sucked and fondled, teasing Murray to a frenzy, and then pulled away.

"What—what are you doing?"

"What I want, like you said." He turned Murray over and reached for the lube. Preparation was quick and sloppy, but Murray didn't seem to need much. He groveled and groaned as Ted pushed into him, rising up on his knees for more. Strong hands grasped his hips and pulled him back, but Murray supplied most of the force. He set the rhythm, fast and punishing, crying out each time Ted's cock struck his gland.

"Hey, kid, careful," he panted and was answered with a sobbing plea.

"Touch me, Lieutenant. Please, _oh, god_, touch me, please."

Quinlan wasn't stupid. He knew what Murray was doing, and he knew he couldn't stop it by any means short of withdrawing. But that wouldn't help. Murray needed to satisfy his lover in order to feel fully forgiven. Quinlan slipped one hand beneath him and gripped his shaft, stroking him hard and fast to the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Oh, that's good. Ted, that's so good," he moaned, bucking and thrusting, hurting himself and glad of it, because he deserved to be hurt and the pleasure was even greater than the pain. Quinlan stopped trying to dissuade him and began instead to tease and please him, tugging the head of his cock and pressing the ball of his thumb into Murray's leaking slit. Suddenly his babble became wordless, frantic, keening howls, and he buried his face in the pillow as he came. Quinlan fucked him hard, riding him through it, but didn't let himself come. Murray felt the persistent hardness, dimly aware of it through his own post-orgasmic fog, and didn't stop thrusting until it was torn away. He moaned in surprised disappointment, but it was short lived. In just a few seconds, Quinlan had flipped him onto his back, hauled the skinny legs up over his shoulders and plunged into him again.

Murray looked up at him vaguely, his brown eyes glazed and distant, and Quinlan kissed him before he could speak. He closed his eyes, lost in the kiss, trapped beneath the heavier body and unable to resume the punishing rhythm. Ted was gentle, sunk deep and moving slowly, taking time to feel every centimeter of him now that Murray was satisfied.

"Does that hurt?" he whispered, nuzzling Murray's ear.

"No. No, it's—it's good, Lieutenant. I—it's good."

"Good," he said, and in the forefront of his brain was a pulsing neon sign, _I love you, I love you, I love you_. Words that, if he had any control whatsoever, would never be spoken. _I love you. Don't leave me again. I love you._ "So sweet, Murray. God, you're so sweet."

He laughed softly, bitterly, and it was Quinlan's turn to be surprised. "Something wrong with that?"

"People usually only call me sweet when I'm getting dumped."

"People are stupid," he said flatly and silenced him with another kiss. _And so am I, because I love you…_

When it was over, Murray lay curled in his arms, thinking privately that this might be better than a girlfriend anyway. Except for one thing.

"Hey, Lieutenant?" he whispered. "Did you really tell the guys that we should all fly off and crash in the ocean?"

"I just got dumped, kid. What do you want?"

"Sorry."

"Stop saying that, Murray. It's done, okay?" _Besides, I love you …_

"Nick wouldn't let me apologize, either. He said friends like us don't have to. So does that mean you and I are those kinds of friends, Ted?"

"Sure, I guess. In private. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know."

"Oh, yeah," Murray grinned. "So do I."


End file.
